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I clear my throat. “It might be odd to meet this way, but I wanted to see how you two got along first. What do you think, Owen? Can Everett be your dad?”
He grins again. “He’s way better at dinosaur Lord of the Rings than you, Mom. I think it’ll be okay.”
I snort a laugh. “Didn’t know that was the standard we’re working with, but okay.”
Everett’s shoulders finally relax. “Glad to be on board.”
“But we have to play a lot,” Owen decides. “That’s what good dads do.”
“You can count on me.”
“And you have to give me things.”
“Owen!” I bark at him.
“What kind of things?” Everett asks, half-laughing.
Owen looks up, as if he’s going down a list in his mind. “Hugs and cereal and you have to teach me how to ride a bike and—"
“You already know how,” I insist. “I taught you. And you don’t even like cereal.”
“But you’re not my daddy and that’s his job. Daddies buy fun cereal. Not that wood chip stuff you like.”
“It’s not wood chips. It’s Grape Nuts.”
“Grandpa says it’s wood chips.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Oh. Okay.”
“And we have to go camping, too.”
Everett’s eyes shine at the thought. “You want to do all of that withme?”
Owen nods while eating. “There’s more, but it’s a start.”
“I love camping,” he says. “I do it a lot for work.”
“You do?”
Everett extols the virtues of his job, while Owen listens, gob smacked that what he does is an actual job. All the while, I listen to Everett’s firefighting stories, and I’m a little awestruck myself. He’s careful to edit things down to a less dangerous place, but I can just imagine what it must be like. Afterwards, Owen is convinced he’s going to be a smokejumper himself.
I smile and ruffle his hair, which, in front of Everett, he hates. “Over my dead body, sweetie.”
“But Maw-ahm!”
Everett, realizing he might be in trouble with me about this, wisely asks, “Owen, have you ever gone camping before?”
“No.”
“How about we see if you like that first? You might hate it.”
“I won’t. I love camping,” he says stubbornly.
Rolling my eyes, I smirk at Everett. “Yeah. Let’s just see how you like it.” I will one hundred percent ruin his camping experience, if that means he forgets about smoke jumping.
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